Moonlit Sonata
by Kendarrr
Summary: A night in New York sends Rachel into a dark memory. Actually, it's every night ever since she broke up with Finn. It was Quinn who found Rachel, and helped her through the moments of anxiety.
1. Chapter 1

_A prompt fill for ForeverDemena, who PM'd me this prompt: Rachel has just gotten out of a very abusive relationship with Finn and Quinn helps her get through the nightmares/anxiety/aftermath of it. Forgive me if it wasn't what you wanted, but I tried._

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><p>Rachel always believed that the moon was a female entity, the way it held a luminescent glow above everything beneath it. The soothing silver beam was as good as a mother's touch, but what would she know about that? She has two dads—who she loves as much as singing—who cared for her and hugged her when school became too exhausting. But when she and Finn Hudson started dating, Rachel turned to him for comfort.<p>

But she can't do that anymore. She left him, and Rachel thought it would leave a crater in her heart, but it didn't. She was relieved, beyond everything else, that she was rid of him.

And yet, as soon as the moon made its nightly appearance, Rachel is submerged into the memory of Finn. Finn and his taunts. Finn and his relentless pushing for sex, not wanting to wait just because he was being pressured to snag the Head Gleek's cherry. She shuddered at it all, pulling her legs closer to her chest to keep the warmth of her body that was slowly dissipating.

They were in New York. For Nationals. Rachel couldn't believe it. New York! The concrete jungle of her future; the land where her dreams will come true! But it all didn't matter. Not when Finn Hudson still loomed around her headspace, eating away at her insides like some parasite that no antibiotic can defeat.

Rachel huffed and sat up, careful not to rouse the girl beside her to wake. She was in the shared hotel room with the Glee girls who were sprawled everywhere. Tina was lying down beside her, so Rachel slowly threw her legs off the bed to head to the washroom, when her lungs constricted at the sight before her.

Quinn Fabray was curled into the closest arm chair. The slivery light peeked its way through the crystal panes, setting an almost melancholic glow against her ashen skin. '_Prettiest girl I've ever met, indeed…'_ Rachel thought, before padding her way to the washroom. She clutched at the porcelain sink; the cool contrast of the basin to her heated flesh was terrifying. Everything was terrifying, especially at night.

It was during nights that Finn would hurt her. With words, and with his actions.

A sob escaped her throat as images conjured themselves into her brain. Rachel was immediately sent back into a double helix of darkness. Finn was immediately behind her, and Rachel couldn't—for the life of her—figure out whether he was real or just a ghost in her head.

"Well, well…" Finn spat, his usual boyish grin was replaced with a malicious smirk. Curved and dirty, it spoke of his vile intentions. He took a sluggish step towards Rachel. "You and I are alone now, Rachel." His hands flew to the front of his pants as he began to massage his crotch. "Come here, babe. I'll show you what I can do."

Rachel couldn't make a sound. Her throat was constricted, and the only fleeting thought in her mind was '_I don't know if I could be able to sing like this'_ when Finn yanked her by the wrist, pushed her to her knees and shoved his hips to her face. "No, please, no…" She gritted out, the pain from her fall to her bony knees against the cold floor stung. "Please Finn, don't!"

"Hush," he hissed, slapping Rachel hard across her face. "You don't want the stupid bitches to wake up." Finn scoffed and gripped each side of the singer's head and he started to thrust. "It's not like they'll care anyway. They don't even like you. They just pretend to be nice so you'll stick around."

Rachel fought Finn's tight grasp on her, but he only shoved her to the growing bulge in his pants. "Stop moving!"

"Mmph—!" Tears racked Rachel's shoulders as Finn drew back to unzip his jeans. This shouldn't be happening… This _can't_ be happening! His penis sprang out and he pinched her nose to cut off her air circulation, forcing her to open her mouth. But no, Rachel fought. She didn't breathe, didn't open her mouth. The voice of Finn and his insults became distant as Rachel welcomed the haze that shot her out of the spiral of Finn and his destructive actions.

"NO!" Rachel shrieked, her eyes splitting open, only to be closed again. It was still dark, and she didn't want to open her eyes to truly see the demon that haunted her to the bone. But the touch against her arm… It was soft. Gentle, even.

"Rachel," the voice was dulcet and lukewarm, like a cup of Earl Grey in the morning. There was only one person who reminds her of tea whenever she heard their voice, and they were with the sobbing girl on the cold bathroom floor. "Rachel, please open your eyes.

"I-I can't…" she whispered. "Q-Quinn… He's—"

"Shh," the blonde girl hummed. Her hands grazed the length of Rachel's arm, stopping to gather her palm in hers. "I want you to try and stand up for me, okay?" Rachel nodded, clenching her fingers around Quinn's. "Slowly now…"

Rachel had yet to open her eyes, but allowed Quinn to pull her up to her feet. She leaned in against the warmth, her arms hooked around a slender neck as she was led out of the bathroom. Only then did she open her eyes.

It was still dark, the moon still pooled on the armchair that Quinn slept in. The blonde girl led Rachel to the bed, setting her down gently that Rachel wasn't aware that she was already sitting. Quinn pulled the covers back, fluffed up the pillow and tipped Rachel by the shoulders, her forearm against the back of the singer's neck. When Rachel struggled, Quinn hummed a soft tune, serving to placate the girl.

"You're okay," Quinn whispered, tucking the ends of the covers around Rachel. She reached up, causing Rachel to flinch, but the sting of a slap never came. Instead, it was the methodical brushing of fingers through her hair, as it was swept away from her eyelids. Rachel couldn't breathe, but it wasn't because Finn was above her, moving roughly and hurting every nerve ending. No, it was because of the care Quinn seemed to have, so imbued in her touch that Rachel felt tears in some faraway place in her eyes.

"No one will hurt you, and I won't ask until you're ready." It was a gentle promise, like a sonata, lit to life by the glow from the moon that seemed to emanate off of Quinn's skin. Fingertips still stroked her forehead. "I'll keep you safe. For now, go to sleep."

And she did. With no trouble and the touch against her eyelids, her forehead, her eyebrows and her eyelashes, Rachel's body melded into the bed as sleep replaced anguish and warmth replaced fear.

/

Waking up was never a chore for Rachel, and today was no exception. Her eyes shot open and she was ready to explore the city and write songs about how much she loves it. She kicked off the blankets and was about to head to the bathroom when Quinn stepped out of it, clothes on and a towel around her neck.

Rachel froze. She remembered her dream last night, how Quinn—Quinn Fabray, mind you!—came to her rescue when she was about to be attacked in her dreams by Finn. It was absurd, not the part about Finn, but Quinn, of all people, sweeping in with her warmth and soothing tones that put Rachel into sleep. Quinn kept drying her hair, while looking at Rachel.

As if nothing happened.

"Morning," the blonde greeted, stepping out of Rachel's way as she continued drying her head. "Shower's free if you want it. And Mr. Schue said to meet up at the lobby at one."

"Okay," Rachel replied, her voice wasn't its usual, chipper decibel, and this caused Quinn to spin around to stare at the brunette, who stared right back.

"Where are the others?" Rachel attempted to lighten the atmosphere as it steadily compressed them together.

"They all went out to explore New York."

"Why aren't you with them?"

Quinn's face hardened, and Rachel took a step back. "Sorry, you don't have to answer any of my questions…"

"I didn't want to be with them." Quinn said anyway. "Hurry up so we can get some food. I'm starving."

It wasn't much, but it was everything Rachel needed. Those unspoken words, that as soon as she closed the heavy white door of the bathroom, someone was out there, waiting for her to come out and join her for whatever inane thing they wished to do.

That's when Rachel knew that something_ did_ happen, and it was no dream.

/

Quinn and Rachel stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, together. That word itself; a word that symbolized being 'not alone' was so overwhelming for Rachel. She felt Quinn's body heat radiating off of her as they walked in sync towards the continental breakfast area. Quinn handed her a plate and a fork, before getting one for herself.

Rachel swallowed down the anxiety that welled inside of her. The tiniest things were so mind-blowing; she didn't know what to do with herself. She grew up with this twisted ideal that Grand Romantic Gestures were the way to go. But alas, here she was, feeling all tingly when Quinn's hand rested against the small of her back to led her to the bowl of iced fresh fruit.

"I highly doubt that the pancakes are vegan," Quinn said as she stabbed two and put it on her plate, slathered it with syrup, and topped it with bacon. "Do you want me to ask the staff if they could make some for you?"

"No, it's perfectly fine." Rachel replied softly. "I'm not in a mood to eat much anyway."

"Rachel," Quinn said in an almost warning tone. "You need to eat. You've been losing weight and that's not a good thing."

"Didn't you used to starve yourself because Coach Sylvester told you to?" Rachel snipped.

"Yes, but now I don't do that anymore." Quinn said slowly. Her plate was full and she frowned at the stray pieces of honeydew and strawberries on Rachel's plate. "Don't make me force feed you. You know I will."

Rachel thought she only imagined the concern that lined Quinn's reprimands, but upon seeing the intent gaze in the blonde's hazel eyes, she knew. She just… She just _did._ And it was disconcerting, because Rachel Berry maybe psychic, but that didn't fully apply with Quinn Fabray.

"Fine," Rachel huffed as she filled her plate with more fruits. "Happy, mother?"

"Not quite. I need you to put those in your mouth, chew, and swallow."

They sat on the island tables, perched by the high bar stools. Quinn giggled when Rachel struggled to get up; the support ring around the bottom of the chair wasn't enough to lift her butt up to the cushion itself. Quinn rose up from her seat, slipped her hands between Rachel's armpits and lifted her up with such ease, causing Rachel to squeak.

"Quinn! That was completely unnecessary! I was managing rather well on my own!"

The blonde said nothing. Instead she laughed, shook her head, and began eating her breakfast. Rachel gawked at her, affronted, before pouting at her fruits. She stabbed them one by one and shoved them in her mouth. She was pleased to say that the succulent fruits tickled her tongue, causing a wide smile to grace her lips.

"You better hurry up," Quinn said after a bout of silence passed them as they ate. "I'm taking you somewhere."

"Where would that be?" Rachel asked, genuinely curious to the blonde's plans. "I-it's not in some forsaken alley so you could attack me, is it?"

Quinn grinned and reached for a napkin. She wiped down the fruit nectar from the corner of Rachel's lips and shrugged. "Seriously Berry, your paranoia. We need to work on that."

She took both of her empty plates to dump them in the used basin to be carried away by the concierge. Reaching out her hand for Rachel to take, the short brunette leapt off the high stool, anticipation burning in her chest. It's not every day that she was able to spend a few hours in a, New York City, and b, with Quinn Fabray.

Their interlocked fingers looked so contrasting. Tanned arms and fingers wrapped around porcelain skin. But it didn't feel so foreign. Granted, it was new, but it wasn't unwelcome. It was a change that Rachel was willing to take, if it meant being around the newfound comfort that Quinn could provide. It was ironic, but the good kind.

/

Rachel had been to New York in the past, but it was way back when she was just a child, unable to go to places on her own. She remembered gripping her fathers' hands in her tiny ones, afraid to get lost in the middle of the bustling streets filled with fast-walking people with places to be. No matter how hard she tried, her legs couldn't keep up, so her daddy, Leroy, lifted her up against his shoulders so she could see the world beyond.

Now, her legs still couldn't quite keep up with Quinn's long gait. The blonde's clasp around her hands never lessened. She led Rachel out of the subway, up the stairs and into the light.

Of Broadway.

"I know it's not as pretty in the morning as it is at night," Rachel heard Quinn vaguely say. "But we have curfew and Mr. Schue doesn't want us going anywhere past the hotel at night so I thought we could…" Quinn tugged at their linked hands and Rachel snapped out of her marvel-induced gaze to stare at Quinn, who looked embarrassed now. "…pretend, for a while."

"Pretend?" Rachel asked. "Pretend about what?"

Quinn led her to the front of Gershwin Theatre, behind a navy blue pillar that displayed a _Wicked_ poster. "I want to pretend we're in the future. You and I, years out of high school." She made a gesture towards the height of the theatre and smiled. "You're doing another _Wicked_ revival as Elphaba, and I…" Quinn swallowed and looked at Rachel's eyes. "I'm here. To visit."

"Close your eyes," Quinn whispered, her breath hitting Rachel's cheeks as her eyes fluttered to a close. "Tell me what you see."

"I… see you." Rachel smiled her lips quirking up. "You look tired from working, but you were smiling. You look perfect, like you always do."

Quinn grip tightened. "What else?"

"I run towards you, and you pull me into a hug." With Rachel's eyes still closed, Quinn pulled her to her body and she rested her chin against the brunette's shoulder. "It's as if we haven't seen each other in years, when we actually just saw each other that morning."

"Yeah?" Quinn chuckled, pulling away slightly. Rachel's eyes were open now, with tears that she so wanted to shed, but not at that moment. At that current graph in the time-space, she was happy. "Are you happy, Rach?"

"Now?" Rachel whimpered. She relinquished her hands off Quinn's to ball her fists around the back of Quinn's shirt. "Yes."

"What about then? Are you happy? Are _we_ happy?"

"Yes," Rachel whispered, her lips dug into Quinn's neck as a tear slipped out of her vision, pooling against the pale neck of the girl in her arms. "We were infinite."

/

They had lunch at around twelve after they walked around the block, simply talking about things. It scared Rachel, at how easy it was to be around Quinn, the girl who hated her and stepped out of her way to make the brunette feel horrible. But that Quinn was nowhere in sight. And this one was quite a lovely change.

"I never meant those things," Quinn said as they walked back to the hotel, hand in hand. "I know that I hurt you, but I just really want to make it up to you now."

"This is a great start," Rachel replied, smiling at the tall blonde who replicated the smile on her own lips. "But once we go in there," she motioned at the hotel that towered before them. "Will things go back to normal?"

"I don't know what you mean by 'normal'," The hazel-eyed girl teased, bumping her hips with the brunette. "Whatever you want, Rachel."

"I want you to hold my hand," the usually voracious diva said meekly. "But I'm afraid what Santana would say about you. You were just patching things up with her. I don't want to ruin your friendship because I can see how much you missed them."

"Santana would understand," Quinn said with a shrug. Rachel stared at her, thinking about the vague response. "Understand what, exactly?"

"Oh, just… Stuff." The blonde grinned and pulled Rachel towards the hotel. "Let's go. I don't want to be the cause of your late attendance."

Walking in hand in hand was enough for most of the Glee club to gawk at the pair who just entered. Even Mr. Schue, who constantly promoted unity between the members, looked the most shocked out of them all. Rachel and Quinn plopped down on the sofa beside Brittany, who was one of the few people who weren't staring as if they grew welts on their faces overnight.

"Umm," Puck craned his neck to glance at the two. "Is it just me or those two are sort of chummy now?"

"I wonder why," Kurt hummed with a small smile directed towards Rachel. He was not malicious, and Rachel was glad. "Can we get on with the meeting, please? I want to explore New York more, if you don't mind."

"O-oh, right!" Mr. Schue cleared his throat and clapped his hands. "I really need you guys to gear up and start writing those songs for Nationals! We still need to practice you know!"

"What about My Cup?" Brittany asked.

"Err… That's not exactly the type of song we're looking for, Brittany." Mr. Schue said with a shrug. So, would you like to pair up and work on a ballad and a group number? Deadline is tomorrow, same time, you guys!"

"Rach—"

"Quinn, would you—?"

"Love to, Rach." Quinn grinned, throwing her arm around Rachel's neck and pulling her close. Rachel didn't dare to look back on Finn, who was surely fuming at the pair before him.

"Hey Quinn, I was gonna ask Rachel to pair up!" Finn scowled.

"Well," Quinn drawled with her arm still around Rachel. "She asked _me,_ and _I_ agreed."

"Is that true?" Finn demanded, as he loomed above Rachel. She shrunk into a compacted version of herself, as her knees began to quiver. Finn's tone was so familiar, so impatient and so angry that she felt the first signs of an anxiety attack bursting through her chest, expanding throughout her whole body. Her lungs constricted, and her breathing became shallow.

"Rachel, are you okay?" Quinn asked sharply, her focus directed towards Rachel. The rest of the Glee club glanced and began to walk towards them, but the sharp order from the ex-Head Cheerio drew them back. "Give her some air!"

Finn ignored the blonde and reached for Rachel's arm. "Come on Rachel, pair up with me instead!" Rachel flinched and tried so hard to curl into herself. Quinn noticed this, and she stood up and shoved Finn off of the brunette. "Hey!"

"Back the fuck off, Hudson, or I'll _make _you." She hissed.

Finn took a furtive step back, his scowl never leaving his face, crumpling it as if he ate something sour. "You'll pay for this."

He said it to no one in particular but Rachel knew it was directed to her. It didn't matter if Finn was looking at Quinn or Quinn was glaring back at him. She knew his malice and anger would be focused on her tonight, in her dreams that don't feel like dreams—only reality.

Puck and Sam clapped Finn on the back as they moved him away from the two girls. As soon as Finn's back was turned, Quinn knelt before Rachel and drew hypnotic circles on the girl's bare knee. "Rach, it's okay. He's not here anymore."

"Uh, the fuck is going on?" Santana demanded, glaring at Rachel, then at Quinn. "We leave you this morning and suddenly you're buddies with her? What, did she drug you or charm you with her fantastic troll powers?"

Quinn ignored her. She gently pried Rachel's arms around herself, and she turned around, wrapping the brunette's arms around her neck. She hoisted Rachel against her back and walked away, muttering comforts to Rachel, who melted into the warmth of the ex-cheerleader's rippling back. Tangerines and cologne was oddly soothing for the singer, but she supposed if it was only Quinn.

Up the elevator they went, and into their room. Quinn bolted the door and carried Rachel to the bed. She tried to pry the girl's arms off of her but it only tightened, afraid of the security that would surely seep out as soon as Quinn's arms left her perimeter.

"I'm not going anywhere. Let me turn around so I can hug you better, okay?" Rachel gave a small nod. Quinn took off their shoes and slowly turned around to have Rachel crashing into her.

"Rachel, you need to tell me what happened between you and Finn." Quinn said in a low whisper, but the brunette only squirmed and shook her head. The girl before her sighed but let the matter drop. Instead, the hypnotic circles appeared again, and Rachel drooped into a restless nap.

/

Rachel woke up; her eyes were red and tired—to the sound of Santana and Quinn mumbling in the far corner of the room. It was only the four of them—Brittany, Santana, Quinn and Rachel—in the hotel room. Brittany sat beside Rachel, playing with the loose strands of her brown hair that were splayed all over the pillow. Rachel perched herself up by her elbows and watched the two ex-cheerleaders in front of her argue quietly.

"You never liked the elf before, what changed?" Santana demanded; her tone was raspy and low. "Yesterday you were complaining how she had Finn and you didn't. Now you're defending her against the treant? Make up your mind, Q!"

"I have," Quinn said, eyeing Rachel with a small smile. "I'm tired of fighting over impermanent stuff with her. Finn? Really? Of all the things to fight about, we have to fight over him? We both know he's a moron. I'm just really bored of fighting over stupid things, you know?"

"And being friends with her will solve this?" Santana hissed. "Q, she's insane!"

The blonde laughed and shrugged. "Maybe I could use the crazy."

"Nope, you definitely don't.' Santana shook her head. "You have more than enough to go around. _Twice_. But whatevs," she ruffled Quinn's blonde hair. "Whatever floats your boat. Come on, B. Let's leave these two to get their mack on."

"Have fun, Q!" Brittany giggled, leaping up towards Santana. "I can tell Rachel's good at it. Tell me how she tastes, okay?"

"I will?" Quinn smirked at the blush on Rachel's cheeks. As soon as the pair left, she took Brittany's previous spot and pulled Rachel's back to her chest. "How'd you sleep?"

"Decent, I s'ppose." Rachel answered, resting her head against the crook of Quinn's neck. She sighed, hoping that her getting used to this was okay, that it would actually last, unlike the comfort that conceived itself when she was with Finn. "'m still tired."

"You slept for about an hour." Quinn said, clearly shocked. "And you want to sleep again?"

"Mmm, no." Rachel mumbled. "Need to write song for Nationals."

"Do you think you can have the creative energy for that?"

"Yes. 'm Rachel Barbra Berry. Can do anything."

Quinn chuckled and strengthened her hold around Rachel, who pushed further into the blonde and sighed. "Okay, Rachel Barbra Berry. What do you want to write the group number about?"

"Pretty girl named Quinn." Rachel hummed, her eyelids already dropping against her cheek.

"What about the ballad?"

"Pretty girl named Quinn too."

"You sound sooo doped up but you're not!" Quinn giggled, tickling Rachel's stomach with her fingertips. "We can't have both songs be about the same thing, you know."

"Yes we can." Rachel muttered. "_Quinn, Quinn, everybody knows her. But all she really cares about is Shakespeare and that guy Chaucer."_ She sang, making Quinn laugh. "_She's a Cheerio who reads, top of her class, and oh hot damn she has the best ass!_"

"You're ridiculous." Quinn said, leaning in against the headboard, taking Rachel with her. With their hands interlocked, she closed her eyes as well. The smile that Rachel brought upon her lips lingered, never leaving.

**~to be continued**

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><p><em>Was it decent? Anyway, this has two parts to it, so wait for the next one! Also, since it's summer, please do not hesitate to send prompts my way. Of course I can't guarantee anything, but I can try!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_And, here is part two! I felt this as kind of rushed, because I didn't want to put it off and I can't write tomorrow because I'm chilling with my broskis. So, here it is, the conclusion! And the much requested bodily-harm towards our favourite antagonist. To **Cassicio**, I read the review too late so I didn't get to do as you asked! Sorry!_

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><p>Rachel jerked awake, her chest heaving and erratic. The room was dark, the rest of the Glee girls were sleeping. She was still in Quinn's arms, a small relief, but incomparable to the terror that sparked through her like bullets in the midst war. She knew it was bound to happen, but never knew when. She gently pried Quinn's arms around her, but it only tightened. The blonde's grip was a vice.<p>

It was almost suffocating, the warmth that emanated from the girl that cloaked her. Rachel had to keep her distance, even if she didn't want to. She needed it, needed to cry on her own. There was no way she would burden sweet and kind Quinn with the images of Finn haunting her.

She kicked off the blankets and padded her way to the bathroom once more. Rachel knew she shouldn't but if she didn't isolate herself, everyone would hear her cries. Whoever made the hotel bathroom soundproof was a godsend.

Leaning above the sink, Rachel allowed the cool water to run through her fingertips. She took deep, calming breaths, daring herself to look up to face her demon. The demon named Finn. Sure enough, he stood there with a smirk that made him appear less than human. It was distorted, as if his facial muscles were knotted into shapes from within the skin. He looked perpetually angry, if his scowl was any indication.

"Quinn is onto me." Finn spat. "Do you have any idea what you're doing? You're bringing innocent people into this! How could you, Rachel? You're so pathetic." He approached her and pushed her against the curve of the sink. "You can't even deal with me on your own. You had to go and rely on Quinn. What makes you think she'll protect you?"

"I-I don't know," Rachel choked out, tears formed around her eyes as Finn's palms closed around her neck. "Finn, don't—!"

"Shut up!" He hissed. "You think you're better than me with your big words and your useless singing…" Finn hoisted her up against the sink and pulled at her sleepwear she didn't remember putting on. "We'll see who is better now."

Finn didn't have time to pull down her pants or hurt her again. Quinn appeared from the doorway, her hazel eyes filled with unadulterated concern and sleep. Rachel shuddered and curled into herself, but Quinn didn't allow her. Instead, she pried Rachel's arms open and wrapped them around her body.

"I'm here," Quinn assured her, as if Rachel wasn't aware enough. If anything, it was _all_ that she was aware of. "No one's here to hurt you. I'm here."

"I know," Rachel sobbed, allowing herself to cry now that Quinn was there to catch her tears.

Quinn led her out of the stark bathroom and onto the main room. Rachel whimpered at the prospect of lying down in bed only to be haunted by her not-dreams—dreams that are dreams but don't feel as such. Sure, Quinn would be around, protect her, but Rachel doesn't want her hurt.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" Quinn whispered. When Rachel shook her head no, Quinn led her to the balcony, to feel the cool New York breeze through her hair. She disappeared back into the room and within a matter of minutes she was back, lugging the single arm chair outside. Quinn sat down and looked at Rachel, expecting something of her.

When neither moved, Quinn reached for Rachel's hand and pulled her onto her lap. As soon as their flesh met, Rachel dissolved into Quinn, wanting nothing more but to be with the blonde, beneath the sparkling New York night, with no worries in their minds. Quinn hummed softly while her fingers lost themselves within Rachel's thick brown locks.

"Rach, you need to talk to me." Quinn pleaded; her voice blew against the curled girl's ear. "I need to know what happened so I can help. Please."

"Why would you want to help me?" Rachel asked, genuinely wondering why Quinn of all people would be concerned. The girl apologized, yes. But was it just guilt? After this ordeal, would she return to their usual protocol of ignoring Rachel while she stole hopeless glances towards the ex-Cheerio? If that was to be the case, Rachel figured she can't allow herself to open up to Quinn.

"I promise I'm not trying to hurt you," she said as if she just read the singer's mind. "I'm making it up to you, remember? All those years of not making sense, fighting about nothing… I just want to fix it all."

"So you're doing it out of guilt?" Rachel's tone gradually reached the pit of the thermometer. "You're doing it to ease your guilt of victimizing me for years? You just want to feel better about yourself? Is that it, Quinn?"

"No," Quinn shook her head. "Okay, maybe partially. But I really do care, Rachel! I know it has something to do with Finn." Rachel seized up and the frown that marred Quinn's beautiful face intensified. "Did he—did he ever hurt you?"

"That is none of your—"

"Oh yes it is," the blonde-haired girl said, her tone was bitter and angry. "It is my business. It _started_ to become my business when you moving around woke me up in the middle of the night. It's _my_ business when it's me who goes into that bathroom to pick you up from the floor, crying because of what that piece of shit did to you before." The flame was back, and Rachel found an odd sense of security in those flaring marbles, that someone was showing their concern. For her.

"It's my business when all I ever wanted is to be the one for you but I can't because he's dragging you down." Quinn admitted softly, that Rachel felt it rather than heard. "It's my business because it's you, Rachel." The brunette in question peered into Quinn's head, watching her eyes reflect the light of the moon and _her_.

Rachel struggled to find her voice, but it was locked away in her heart. Ignoring the desire to spew off some tirade, she dipped her head, for a pair of lips she only wanted to feel before. It was strange but pleasant, how Quinn welcomed her in with her mouth. How this moment of physical contact could make her forget so many things, so many aches in her body.

"Rachel," Quinn mumbled, pulling away just enough for Rachel to miss her lips. "Tell me what happened. Tell me what Finn did to you."

"If I told you what he did, he'll hurt you too." Rachel whimpered, burying herself into Quinn.

"I can take him on," Quinn smoothed her fingers all over Rachel's back. She shuddered, and curled deeper into her main source of comfort. They both sighed into one another, the blonde's grip tightening, and Rachel wishing that she would never have to let go. "But I don't care if he gets pissed at me. He can't hurt me, Rach. Not unless he hurts you too."

"Stop that," Rachel cried, a tear slipped out of her eyelids as she sniffled. "Stop being so sweet and caring and romantic and totally _not_ Quinn!" She threw her arms up in frustration, but Quinn could tell by the twinkle in Rachel's eyes that she was merely being overdramatic. "It's very disconcerting! Stop it!"

"Not when you're being adorable about it." Quinn grinned, tickling Rachel's stomach. The singer shrieked and Quinn ceased her actions to kiss the top of her head. "Tell me, Rach."

"Only if you promise not to do anything foolish," Rachel said with a stern glare. "No punching, no verbal lashing. You will not lay a hand on him, do you understand?"

Quinn hesitated before answering. "But—"

"No, Quinn."

"I can't promise that Rachel," Quinn said, her tone was almost begging. "If you tell me what he did, I have to make sure he knows to keep away. I'll be awake with you when you're experiencing these night terrors, but I want him to suffer like you are." She scowled out to the skyline, only to have Rachel's touch smooth out her features. "Just once, I want to hurt him for the sake of someone else."

"Okay," Rachel whispered. "One punch, square in the nose. Nothing more."

Quinn smiled and nodded. "Deal."

Rachel took a deep breath and avoided Quinn's gaze. "It only happened a few times—"

"If you didn't leave him, it would've escalated." Quinn bit out. At Rachel's stern glare, Quinn shrugged and rested her lips against the curve of Rachel's shoulder. "Sorry. Continue?"

"It was a few weeks before New York," Rachel sighed into Quinn. "He felt… neglected, I suppose. He was complaining how I-I wasn't putting out, that I won't even let him touch my breasts." The brunette glanced at her chest and frowned. "Apparently the guys in the football team sans Glee boys were pressuring him. Said that if he manages to snag the 'head loser's cherry'…" Rachel made a gesture, grimacing at the horrified look on Quinn's face. "…he will be up in the ranks of popularity."

"I'll fucking kill him…" Quinn mumbled, but said nothing more.

"So one day, we were in my room, just the two of us. And he…" Rachel made a strangled noise at the back of her throat. "He asked me if we could have sex. I said no and he… Well, he slapped me and pushed me on the bed."

Quinn's arms held her closer, her lips trailing a path from Rachel's shoulder to her neck. She said nothing, but allowed the reassurance of the mellow physicality between them do its work. It was during times like these that Rachel wished for a way to stop time, to have moments engraved so deep inside her so that she would never forget.

"I fought him off, but he was strong. He forgot I took self-defense classes so I decapitated him, leaving him sprawled on the ground." Rachel smiled up at Quinn who returned it, albeit hesitantly. "I broke up with him and forced him out of my home."

"That wasn't the first time though, is it?" Quinn asked softly. "He hit you before. I noticed how you flinched whenever he reached for your hand." At Rachel's squeak-and-nod, the blonde growled and slipped her hand beneath the brunette's nightshirt. Her fingertips massaged the pliant skin on Rachel's back, causing her to shudder. "How opposed are you with me hitting him until he bleeds?"

"Very opposed," Rachel murmured against warm skin. "I do not wish to spend my moments with you behind a glass wall, Quinn."

The blonde smiled. "Are you saying you won't visit me in juvie? That changes my plans a bit then." Rachel giggled and closed her eyes. "I just have to make sure I won't get caught. I'm sure Santana's ready for a secret attack."

"Don't bring her into this."

"She wants to hurt him too!"

"Quinn!"

"You know it's true!" Quinn laughed. "We talk about you sometimes, and Santana secretly cares. She sees how Finn treats you, and I guess how we feel about him is one of the few things we have in common." Rachel rolled her eyes and rested against the juncture of Quinn's shoulder and neck. "Just look at it as a team-building exercise between us. Or a bonding experience, if you will."

Rachel said nothing as a yawn tore through her. Her energy seemed to dissipate. Paired with the warmth of Quinn and the cool contrast of the New York midnight air, with the lull of her voice and the promise of a defense, she felt her consciousness slipping away. Quinn kissed the crown of her head, whispered something reassuring, and Rachel lost herself once more.

/

The sun was balmy against her back when Rachel cracked open an eye. She cricked her neck from side to side, noticing how she and Quinn were still outside, how they felt asleep last night. A blanket covered their bodies, and Quinn's hold on her was still strong. Rachel smiled at the parted lips and the levelled features of the blonde, who looked untouchable at the moment.

Quinn grunted in her sleep, shifted, and then pulled Rachel closer to her, as if the millimetres that wedged them apart were a gulf she couldn't handle. Who knew Quinn Fabray was a cuddle-monster, anyhow?

"Quinn," Rachel whispered against the pale cheek, warm underneath the sun and shared body heat. "We need to get up and write that song for Nationals."

"Mmmno." She groaned. "I'm sure your creative genius will be able to handle it if we sleep in for an hour or more."

"Do you always speak like this in the mornings?" Rachel giggled, poking at Quinn's cheek. "I need to go to the washroom. Unhand me please." Quinn huffed but did as she was asked. Rachel kissed her cheek before climbing off of Quinn and heading to the bathroom. After dealing with her business, she saw Quinn carrying the armchair back into the empty hotel room, her short hair sticking in odd ends all over her head. It was a pretty sight; a vision Rachel wouldn't mind seeing again.

"Whatever happened to sleeping in?" Rachel smirked.

"My cuddle buddy had to go pee." Quinn muttered. "Let's go get dressed. I'm hungry."

/

The hotel's dining area held a sparse amount of people; more than half were members of the New Directions. They were all in one table, chatting about one thing or another, only to have a break in conversation upon seeing Rachel and Quinn walk in together, hand in hand.

"Well, well." Kurt grinned teasingly. "Look who decided to join us."

"Good morning," Rachel greeted, taking the plate that Quinn offered her. "How are you?"

"Shocked you weren't awake at the ass crack of dawn pushing us to practice our scales or something." Artie joked. "I thought you wake up at six every day?"

Rachel simply shrugged. "My bed was warm."

"Sit here Rach!" Finn waved the brunette over with his supposedly-charming grin. The brunette froze, eyes darting from Quinn to Finn, then to Quinn once more. The blonde merely twitched her jaw, and Rachel knew she was holding in the rage that was buried not-so-deep inside of her. She didn't want to start off the day like this; not when she woke up feeling amazing. Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand and led them beside Brittany who was beaming.

Finn scowled and stalked over to the pair. "Hey! I was talking to you!"

"I guess you're just not that entertaining, Finncoherent." Santana drawled. "Get outta my space. You're ruining my mood."

"Shut up Santana!" Finn spat. He reached for Rachel's hand but he was deflected by Quinn who was fuming. "What do you want?"

"For you to back off and never even dare to look Rachel's way again." She said quietly. It was different, Rachel noted. She was so used to seeing Quinn's rage as loud and violent. This was eerie, the silent Quinn whose persuasion ran through the biting words that left her mouth. "You're not worth the whisper of her breath, or even a glance from her." Quinn glanced at the brunette who nibbled at her lip as the tension rose above their heads. "I'll only ask once. Leave her alone."

"You can't make me!" Finn yelled, jerking his arm out of Quinn's grip to reach for Rachel. But Santana yanked her out of the way. "Fucking bitch!"

"How original," Santana muttered, rolling her eyes. "That's nothing I've heard before."

"I warned you Finn," Quinn muttered. She walked over to Rachel and kissed her forehead before winking. In a flash of gold and blonde, Quinn spun, throwing her fist out for it to land on Finn's nose. A dull crack resounded, and the freakishly-tall boy groaned, clutching at his bleeding nose. "That's for Rachel. You know why."

She sat down beside Rachel, smiled at her and began eating her blueberry cream cheese bagel as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. The rest of New Directions were still staring at the pair, but ignored Finn who struggled to get up. He was red to the tips of his ears, and he lurked behind Quinn, ready to land a hit, but Rachel punched him in the gut before he could lift his arm.

"You might hurt me," Rachel growled so only she, Quinn and Finn could hear. "But you don't lay a hand on Quinn."

Finn grunted in pain as he walked out of the dining hall. Rachel and Quinn smiled at each other before eating. Again, New Directions still gaped, unsure about the sudden bout of violence against the boy that Rachel and Quinn used to fight over. Kurt shook his head with a smile. "At least they're finally getting along."

/

After a stroll through Central Park, balls of crumpled paper, and four hours later, Quinn and Rachel finally finished the songs for Nationals. It was funny; Rachel shook her head as she recalled Quinn holding her hand as they went for their walk. An elderly couple smiled at them, and the guy who was giving out free balloons totally assumed they were dating. Quinn never denied a thing, only pulled Rachel closer and grinned.

But somehow, a part of Rachel figured it wouldn't last. As soon as Quinn's guilt was placated, all of it would vanish into thin air. She would be alone again, with ghosts that were temporarily shoved into the farthest closet.

They sprawled on the carpeted hotel floor, their finished lyrics in sheets above their heads. Fingers loosely interlocked, Quinn hummed the melody for their song. Rachel closed her eyes and revelled beneath the soft tune, singing along.

"_The clouds may disappear but baby you know I'll be here. Forever holding your hand, I know we're not the best of friends._" Rachel turned her head to face Quinn. "_I just want to tie all these loose ends so maybe we can be more than what words can say._"

The ballad was mostly Quinn's doing, since Rachel was insistent on doing the fast song as long as it wasn't about her ass, Quinn said with a smirk. The diva huffed and crumpled the sheet on her hotel pad, chucking it at the blonde in mock anger. "You should be the one to sing this song, Quinn." Rachel said.

"Hey, I wrote it already! Why do I have to sing it too?" Quinn pouted.

"Because of the emotion behind it! Only you can sing it with the proper execution of unrequited love and romantic hopefulness!" Rachel lifted her free arm above her as she stared at her splayed fingertips.

"Do you really think it's unrequited?" Quinn asked, her voice a low whisper.

"I…" Rachel hesitated, seeing the hurt in Quinn's eyes. She no longer saw the cruel Head Cheerio that ordered slushies to be thrown at her, or the scathing girl who spat out insults every time Rachel walked past. No, here lies Quinn, a friend hoping to be more than so. Rachel knew she'd be lying if she denied Quinn this. "No, it's not."

The blonde visibly relaxed as she rolled over to tuck her chin against Rachel's shoulder. "You'll be amazing singing the song, Rach."

"When we present it to Glee club… C-can we sing it as a duet?" Rachel asked, biting her lip nervously. "I really want to hear your voice, but since you won't sing…"

Quinn pecked her cheek and nuzzled against her. "_For a minute in our time not being with you feels so much like a crime. Darling you know I'm here, more than words, more than verbs."_

Rachel shuddered and pushed Quinn to her back so that she could straddle the smirking blonde. "Continue, please."

"_He's not worth a whisper or a bated breath. _Rachel please," the girl in question shuddered at the way Quinn said her name. It was melodious, and was her new favourite song. "_Let me be the one to take your words from your lips with my own, show you a world that we both have never known._"

"You weren't supposed to be this charming." Rachel whimpered against Quinn's chest, her nose rubbed against the beating clavicle. "Do you not understand the severe repercussions of being with me? I-I don't put out!"

"I'm not Finn," Quinn said, her tone delicate. "I don't need you to put out for me to like you. I'm pretty happy with just a kiss, you know?"

"Cheap date, aren'tcha." Santana snickered from the doorway. "Schuester's calling. Wants us to get down to the conference room he rented out for the meeting." Without another word, she disappeared. Rachel stood up and pulled Quinn along with her. Lyrics in hand and Quinn's in the other, they walked over to the elevator and into the conference room. Everybody was already there.

"Is it just me or Quinn is making you late all the time?" Artie snickered with a playful grin. "Which is good, ya know? Balances out your crazy."

Rachel huffed and plopped down on the seat beside Quinn. "Well? Can we please just start this meeting? I exhausted my creative energies writing these soulful songs with Quinn so I would appreciate it if we could adjourn immediately."

"I take it back…" Artie muttered.

"Would you like to start then, Rachel?" Mr. Schue said, offering the front of the room for her. She leapt up, yanking Quinn with her. She cleared her throat and grinned at the people in front of her. She glanced at the blonde who smiled and nodded, before they broke into their ballad.

"Wow." Mercedes blinked at the two girls who were taking deep breaths after belting out the last note. "That was sort of intense. I mean, you guys were awesome in I Feel Pretty / Unpretty but wow. Just… wow."

"We get it Mercedes," Rachel giggled, skipping over to the black girl and hugging her. "Thank you for thinking so."

"Who wrote the ballad?" Finn asked from his seat in the farthest corner of the room. He sounded bitter, and Rachel couldn't blame him. He was also nasally, if the splinter on his nose was any indication of his injuries.

"Quinn did."

He scoffed. "Figures. It wasn't like any of that crap like Only Child or My Headband."

"Hey!" Brittany complained, glaring at Finn. "I love My Headband. I don't see _you_ coming up with any songs, so shut your mouth." But the injured boy ignored her. He stood up and kicked a chair that was in the way as he approached Quinn and Rachel. "No wonder you two didn't put out. You're totally dyking it up with each othe—!"

Rachel found that the sound of a resonating crack was her favourite, as long as it was made against Finn's face. She was seething, eyes smouldering and it certainly wasn't because she was aroused. After all, Quinn wasn't in her line of sight. "I don't care about what you think, Finn Hudson. There was a time that I did, but Quinn did nothing to warrant your rage."

"She broke my fucking nose!"

"You deserved it!" Rachel shrieked. "You wouldn't listen to her. All she wanted—no, all _we_ wanted was for you to leave me alone! She warned you. It was _you_ who didn't listen!"

"Okay guys," Mr. Schue finally decided to intrude. He pushed Finn to a row of chairs. "Calm down. Finn, don't attack them."

"Can we please just get on with this meeting?" Rachel asked, her shoulders visibly slumped and in a flash, Quinn was cradling her on her lap. The brunette sighed and leaned into Quinn's shoulder, not caring about the appalled looks on everyone's faces—except for Santana, Brittany and Kurt. "I want to hear what Tina and Kurt came up with."

"You two are so cute I wanna puke all over the goddamn floor." Santana muttered. "Don't know what it is with Berry but whatevs, right? Can't judge, Q."

"Thanks," Quinn smiled, her eyes never leaving Rachel.

/

After everybody sang their original songs, it was time for voting. To say that Rachel and Quinn won by a landslide was an understatement. It was an avalanche. Finn's vote didn't count to them because it was obvious how he took the ballad as a personal vendetta against him.

"Are you singing it as a duet?" Mr. Schue asked. "Quinn told me it was originally a solo song, but I have to say… You two sound brilliant as a pair."

"It's up to Quinn." Rachel said. "She wrote the song already. I don't want her to feel pressured about this." Mr. Schue nodded and smiled at the pair before leaving them alone.

"Do you really want to duet with me?" Quinn asked softly as she nuzzled into Rachel. "I'm not as great as you are. And this is Nationals! If it's only Sectionals I'd be fine with it but Nationals, Rach!"

"Don't tell anyone but I don't really care much about the title anymore," Rachel whispered into Quinn's ear, making her shudder. "I don't need a bunch of strangers to tell me something, when I know I already won." She tucked a loose strand and kissed Quinn's ear, then her cheek, her nose, then her lips. "Right?"

"Right," Quinn groaned, tugging Rachel's hair as their lips met into a flurry of kisses infused with heat and the resonating cry of a victory against demons finally purged.

/

_**A month later**_

The silence of the night was a beautiful thing. Rachel appreciated this thought as she lay on her back against the soft tufts of grass. The blades tickled her calves, her arms and her neck as her eyes fluttered to a close. The moonbeam pooled against shirt, trembling when Quinn gently pulled back the fabric so she could kiss the flat abdomen.

"I know I say this every day," Rachel began, giggling when Quinn groaned theatrically. "But thank you for saving me. Thank you for saving me from him. Thank you for—for singing that song with me during Nationals. I told you we'd win," she added as an afterthought.

"I know I say this every time you say this," Quinn grinned. "You're welcome, Rach. You know I'd do it all again, duet and all, if it meant having this." She motioned between them, and Rachel sighed, nodding her head in understanding. "So really, thank you too."

They were not-dating for two weeks after Nationals, until Quinn broke down and showed up in the wee hours of the morning in her loose hoodie and a smile, asking for nothing much but Rachel as her girlfriend. If only Leroy and Hiram didn't like her, she was sure to be arrested for disrupting the peace, as she heard her new girlfriend squeal and bounce all over the house, waking up everyone she could. Then she darted out of the hose and threw her arms around Quinn, who laughed and kissed her in front of her dads, the neighbours, and the passing joggers. She just didn't care.

Hands interlocked and Quinn's cheek against her tummy, Rachel drew in a peaceful sigh. Their synchronized breathing reminded her of the first promise Quinn ever whispered to her, remembered how it was like a sonata with its single-melody with Quinn's voice as the only instrument. She promised that no one would hurt her, that she would keep Rachel safe. And she did.

And like her favourite Beethoven piece, it was lit by the moon that shone above them.

Another breath, another promise of a world beyond words to transpire between the two. Rachel and Quinn. Who knew?

Certainly not them.

**~enfin**

* * *

><p><em>The supposed italicized lyrics are for a song that doesn't exist. I just really enjoy rhyming. I hope you enjoyed this two-shot though. Now excuse me, as it is two in the morning and I need to sleep.<em>


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